


Brace Yourself

by lilacsigil



Category: X-Men: First Class (2011) - Fandom
Genre: Closeted Character, Disability, F/F, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-06-21
Updated: 2011-06-21
Packaged: 2017-10-20 14:57:43
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,251
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/213985
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lilacsigil/pseuds/lilacsigil
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Charles is making plans; Erik is out and proud; Raven is in love with Irene and the feel of cashmere.</p><p>From this prompt: At the end of the film Charles can't walk. But, if I remember right, in X3 in the flashback to when he and Eric met Jean Grey he could. And then in the first X-Men film (which is obviously set after the flashback) he can't again.</p><p>I want an explanation.</p><p>Bonus points if you explain why Eric appears to be involved in Charles school.<br/>Bonus bonus points if you also explain where Charles' hair went.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Brace Yourself

"I'm not trying to hide, Erik." Charles keeps things verbal, not telepathic. "And I don't really think you're in a position to make that decision for me."

Erik prowls around Charles's study. He has his own study just a floor below, but he rarely bothers to use it. "Faking that you can walk isn't hiding?"

Charles catches his hand as he goes past and pulls him to a halt. "At the last child's house, I couldn't even get in the door."

"You know I'd rip the door off for you. And flatten their stairs into a ramp." Erik is not exaggerating: the mansion barely survived the onslaught of repairs Erik inflicted on it. Most of the businesses in town have been intimidated into letting Erik and Alex adjust their shelves and fix ramps in place. Charles hates the fuss, but guiltily enjoys the ease of getting around in Salem Center compared to anywhere else.

"And their door frames? And their bathrooms? No, my friend, you're not being practical."

Erik props himself against the arm of Charles's chair now, sitting lightly on the arm with his back to Charles. Charles doesn't let himself think it too loudly, but this is Erik's preferred position for listening to reason while pretending not to.

Charles puts his arm around Erik's waist, pulling him a little closer. Erik wouldn't let the chair tip. "You'll fight the whole world for me, but you won't help me navigate it a little more easily? A physical handicap is not the same thing as a mutant power, and I don't appreciate you equating the two."

Erik throws his hands up but he doesn't move away. "Fine. It's not like a mutant power, then. It's more like the way you won't let me touch you in public."

"I don't – "

"You let me push your chair sometimes, when you think I'm _worked_ up and that's it." He pulls free of Charles and strides across to the door. "Right. We'll try it your way."

"It's just more practical!" Charles yells after him, but Erik uses his power to slam the door so hard that all the pictures on the walls jump.

\--

Erik stalks down the stairs, through the kitchen – Sean, stuffing his face at the fridge, jumps in terror – and out to the huge garage. He usually pauses to enjoy Charles's cars for a moment, but this time he walks straight past them to the big metal workbench at the back of the garage. Sometimes he curses himself for having been too weak to walk away from Charles and his stupid ideas back in Cuba. He'd been too weak to just leave him at the hospital and get out of there with Raven and the others. Charles had been so badly hurt then, and getting him back to New York had taken so long that Erik had never found the right time to leave. Now, years later, there were always something important to be done, or students who needed rescuing. Mostly it was just Charles being Charles that kept Erik here: Charles with his stupid, lovely grin and his recently shaven head, too vain to show how thin his hair is getting. Charles and his ridiculous ideals that had somehow kept them all safe.

Drawing out a thin sheet of metal from one of the steel bars he keeps on hand, Erik punches his fist right through it. It wasn't Charles's ideals that had kept them safe: it was his money, and his power. And yet he still insists on behaving like the humans did; smiling and being polite, keeping his hands off Erik in public, even when Raven and her girlfriend Irene held hands and fixed each other's clothes and fed each other French fries. Not that Erik wanted Charles to feed him French fries, but he couldn't deny he was jealous of Raven and Irene's very visible ease with each other, even if the two women had been kicked out of more than one establishment, and threatened with violence in public places.

"Hey."

Speak of the devil. Raven has climbed up to sit on the bonnet of one of the cars.

"What do you want?" He gestures at her long cashmere sweater dress. "And you know you don't have to wear that around me."

The dress vanishes, and Raven is her own true self again. "Did you like it? I'm working on texture."

Erik relaxes a little. He enjoys Raven's company very much, no matter how infuriating her brother can be. "More to the point, did Irene like it?"

Raven grins broadly, all the pretty little stipples of her face flexing in delight. It's only been a few months, and they're still very much in the lovey-dovey stage. "She's making me try harder. I didn't have the fuzz right. So what were you and Charles yelling about this time?"

Shaping the thin metal sheet into a perfect bust of Charles, Erik makes it float around ridiculously, somehow feeling a little better. "He wants me to make him leg braces that I can control. So he can walk."

Raven looks upset. Erik is briefly sorry he confided in her, but she's the one who knows Charles best. This surely can't surprise her too much.

"He's an idiot, but he knows you love him."

Erik crumpled up the metal and smoothed it out again. "What's that got to do with anything?"

"He never lets anyone else see how frustrated he gets. He knows you think he's perfect anyway."

"He's not perfect," Erik grits his teeth, then forces his face to relax. Raven's right, as usual: Charles trusts Erik with the bad as well as the good, and all Erik wants to do is make nothing bad ever happen to Charles again.

Raven shrugs. "Yeah, you big liar. So how are you going to make him walk? I guess he can link to you and co-ordinate the whole thing."

"I haven't said I'm going to do it yet."

"You know the only way forward is to give him what he wants and let him make up his own mind. He wins just about every other argument with you. Or me. Or anyone."

"Not the one about the new jet," Erik says proudly, and Raven has to concede that one. "But I don't know that it's safe, either." Erik lets the metal slide over his arm like a glove, conforming perfectly to his skin. He takes control of the metal and flexes it, his hand clenching into a fist and opening again. "I can feel it on my own skin, but Charles isn't going to be able to feel it on his legs. I could hurt him."

"Practise on me." Raven jumps to her feet. "I can't telepathically link with you, but I can yell if you squeeze my leg too hard."

"We all have our talents." Erik lets the metal slip over her bare legs and wonders, yet, again, how Charles can win arguments without even being present.

\--

A month later, they pull up outside a suburban house in Annandale-on-Hudson, an easy drive from Salem Center. Erik puts on his hat as he gets out of the car, and Charles, Charles puts his feet on the ground. They move forward as one, far more united than anyone watching would perceive, and walk together up the narrow path to the single step that bars entry to the Grey house. Charles puts his foot on the step like a triumph, and Erik has nothing to say.


End file.
